


Basslines, drops and outros

by dubstepbard (trashytalk)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accompanied by a playlist, Alcohol, Inspired by Music, M/M, Many characters will appear, Music!AU, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashytalk/pseuds/dubstepbard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first meeting was a journey through the five senses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is my first AU - I'm excited. /)u(\
> 
> Thanks for the beautiful Pixie for beta reading <3
> 
> This fic has a playlist on [ Spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/6Nwks1tjlYtm5MdprYCMaI).
> 
> Enjoy!

The first contact was through sound. The beat of the music filled his ears and his head. The treble caught his attention: it was outstanding, raw, insistent. The rhythm was hypnotizing, enough to detach him from the world while narrowing his focus on the task at hand.

The bassline was strong. Teasing. Complete.

Note after note led him to that unknown club. The melody was engraved into his mind, he knew it like the palm of his hand. He could recite it backwards without making a single mistake, again and again and again. Still, he was pretty surprised when he got to the actual Club Alpaca, which was already buzzing with people. Some were just arriving, some were almost wasted, some were looking less excited than him.

Well, he was _really_ excited and couldn’t stop smiling anyway.

He was greeted by a couple of enthusiastic high-pitched voices and excessive praise. He couldn’t tell if they were sincere or not.

He ended up believing they were.

He settled and let the conversation noise wash over him, emptying his mind while the crowd started gathering in front of the stage.

Suddenly, the lights started dimming until they were completely off, giving way to strobes and neon lights over the naked walls. It was starting.

It was startling.

He heard voices, screams, the painfuly slow intro that kept growing and growing. He could hear his heartbeat thumping inside his own head. He heard every single person in the club inhaling at the same time before he couldn’t listen to anything else.

Absolute silence.

And then, the _drop._

\---

He’d already lost track of time, all his senses were inebriated by the excessive stimulus. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air, the bodies exuding hormones, perfumes and heat.

It was almost pleasant. _Almost._

The set ended with a pretentious _fade out_ that left his ears buzzing for a minute or so.

“Wow.”

The adrenaline finally faded. The sweet scent of tropical fruits permeated his senses and he felt his throat dry, needy of a drink. He obliged.

He heard his name being called somewhere in the dispersing crowd, and turned to look for the owner of that voice. Turns out the owner of the voice was also the owner of the club, and an old acquaintance of his, a friend from college whom he’d never seen after graduating. In a matter of minutes, he had a new bracelet. A very special one. One that gave him access to the VIP lounge.

It must have been his lucky day.

Once in the lounge, he could relax, sit down and even _breathe_ properly. The air conditioning was so cold that his nostrils felt as if they were burning, but the change of atmosphere was very welcome.

The backstage door opened suddenly and a tall figure emerged from the other room. He squinted, trying to make out who that was and then it clicked.

The mysterious shadow was the DJ. And he was talking on the phone with someone that, judging by his voice tone, wasn't being nice to him.

Or maybe someone that was being just too nice.

“No, listen, I don't need a lift. Yeah, I ate already. Yup. Sober. No I won't take long, I'll be back soon enough. Chill, Yamaguchi, I know I have things scheduled for tomorrow and I won't do anything stupid. No I won't. I said I won't be hungover.”

Kuroo smiled and his heart skipped a beat.

\---

He glanced around to check his luck.

There he was, sitting at the VIP lounge of a club he'd never been to before, surrounded by a bunch of folks that were prettier and richer than him. He could see their designer clothes, expensive watches and jewelry, the unbelievably fancy drinks they were having. That, and the DJ he looked up to was standing there.

Said DJ was as tall as him, which meant he was very tall. Kuroo could see his fair hair underneath the cap he was wearing, and he still had his headphones around his neck. Kuroo observed while the other put the phone away, then proceeded to put on his glasses.

Kuroo snorted and soon regretted, because now the DJ was shooting a pissed look at him and frowning.

“What?”

 “I had no idea that you wear glasses.”

 The pissed look turned into a curious stare and an arched eyebrow.

 “Who are you? A fan?”

 Maybe he was still pissed.

 “Yeah, you could say so. I came to watch you.”

 Kuroo couldn't tell if the red on the other's face was due to the lights or if he really was flustered.

 He ended up believing the latter.

 The DJ's movements were slow and graceful for someone so tall, and Kuroo drank it all in with his eyes. Next thing he knew, the man was sitting in front of him, a small glass table between the two.

 Kuroo observed while the other relaxed against the sofa, crossing his legs casually and playing with the hem of his shirt before tangling his fingers and letting them rest on his lap.

It was almost too much for him to bear. Especially since he was trying so hard to keep his looks civilized and not like some kind of hungry animal looking at his prey. Kuroo was entirely aware that the DJ wasn't the most beautiful person he'd ever seen - he wasn't even the most beautiful person in that room - but there was something else about him. Some kind of magnetism. Some kind of raw talent and this air of mystery that surrounded him. It was so enticing, hypnotizing, and no one else mattered in that moment.

Kuroo couldn't tear his eyes from him and everything he was doing. It was almost insane, but the DJ didn't seem to mind it much.

In fact, he was kind of staring back.

“So I do have a fan. Wow.” His voice was full of disdain and monotony. It almost sounded provocative. “Do you want an autograph?”

His chances of having a nice little talk with the DJ were slipping away with every second of his hesitation.

“Actually… I wanted to talk to you about your music and your inspirations, since we're already sitting at a nice place with nice drinks.”

Never before in the history of humanity a sarcastic smile was gone so fast.

“Are you messing with me?” the DJ’s eyes widened.

“Why would I lie to you? We don’t know each other, you make music I like and I’m a curious guy. I can’t see why this would be a big deal.”

The DJ was looking at him. Really looking at him. Drinking him in. Sizing him up. His gaze wandered from Kuroo’s black high tops to his almost-too-skinny jeans (the ones that made his legs look amazing, he had to admit), not missing his black tee and jacket. And then…

_Oh, the hair._

The DJ was taking his time examining his eternal bedhair, and he seemed legitimately intrigued by it.

Kuroo spoke up.

“It’s a lost cause, I can’t tame it.”

The DJ snorted. “How am I supposed to discuss music with someone who can’t even control his own hair?”

“Well I don’t need to be thoroughly groomed to appreciate good music, do I?”

“Point taken. Maybe you could try wearing a cap?”

Kuroo was surprised when the other took off his own cap and threw it at him, motioning for him to wear it. A second later, though, they were both smiling while Kuroo put it on.

“So, how do I look?”

“Hm. Somewhere between ‘a lot better’ and ‘looking like a douche’. I like it.”

The lights were flickering and Kuroo was very thankful of it, otherwise he would’ve been caught blushing.

While he was busy feeling overwhelmed, the DJ had apparently asked the waiter for two drinks, since now one of them was sliding towards him.

“This one’s on me. I hope you like strawberries and saké.”

Kuroo took the glass and inhaled the sweet scent of strawberries. He couldn’t sense the alcohol, which was probably a bad thing, but he ignored the feeling of impending doom - a very likely hangover in the next day - and took a sip. His new acquaintance smiled at his reaction, mirroring his movements.

This was definitely his lucky day.

\---

They only stopped talking when the taste of their drinks felt like a ghost on their tongues. Kuroo couldn’t stop laughing about everything and the guy sitting in front of him, whom he now knew as Tsukishima Kei, couldn’t pretend he wasn’t having fun.

“Kuroo, for fucks sake, this isn’t even _that_ funny…” Kei said, even though he couldn’t stop laughing himself.

“What?! Of course it is! Your romantic hit that everyone thinks it’s the most beautiful love ballad ever is actually a song about your _fucking_ cat!’

“Well, I happen to like my cat a lot...”

Now Kuroo was howling and clutching his sides and Tsukishima seemed to be losing his cool.

“Listen. You came to my show by your own free will and I bet you _fucking enjoyed_ that song. And now you’re laughing at my expense.” he frowned and pointed his finger to Kuroo, who froze on the spot, the laughter dying as fast as it began. “But hey, you _paid_ to listen to a song about my cat. Think about it. You’re at the losing end here.” Tsukishima shrugged and drank from his fourth - or was it his fifth? - glass. The words felt bitter, especially when coming out of such a pretty and sugar-filled mouth, even though those words were said in a sluggish way, thick like honey.

“Never in a million years! I’ve never been so happy to hear a love song about a cat, otherwise I wouldn’t be here now and I wouldn’t have met you, right?”

Tsukishima nearly choked on his drink, but quickly regained his composure while Kuroo gave him a quick wink.

Was he pushing his luck too much?

“Very smooth, Kuroo. _Veeeeeeery_ smooth. Almost suspicious. Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

"No way! I am a nice person, Kei.”

Tsukishima laughed and emptied his glass while Kuroo tried to look away from him, without success.

“Right, right. I have to pee, be right back.” Kei stood up, swaying a bit.

Kuroo’s head was spinning while he watched the other walk away. His mind was intoxicated with the taste and scent of strawberries, with the view of Kei’s legs and with the constant loud music. That, and he couldn’t feel his face anymore.

It was a great night so far.

\---

Kuroo really needed to pee, but he wasn’t sure about his ability to stand up and walk without planting his face on the floor. That’d be awful. And painful. And…

He _really_ needed to pee.

Sighing, Kuroo rose to his feet and decided to ‘just go already’.

He managed to get there safe and sound (and dizzy). He did what he had to and was washing his hands and face when he heard a sluggish voice coming from one of the stalls.

“Yamaguchi, _I’m fine._ You don’t have to send anyo- no, no! Anyone but Saeko.” Tsukishima’s tone turned into a whimper, annoyed. “I can get home on my own, _thank you very much_. No, I didn’t forget about tomorrow’s appointments... Ugh. Ok. Yeah, yeah. I know”. He sighed. “I’ll get my things, then. Ok. Bye.”

Kei left the stall to meet Kuroo’s gaze through the mirror, his face still dripping with water.

Kuroo smirked, and his cheeks tickled in a funny way, prickling like a cactus was touching them. It was awkward but it was also funny at the same time.

The smile didn't reach his eyes, though.

“Your boyfriend is very thoughtful, Kei.”

There was a glaring competition before Tsukishima decided to answer with a small smile on his lips.

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my best friend and my manager. He’s the one that deals with all the bureaucracy while I ‘make the magic happen’.” Tsukishima made an exaggerated ‘quote’ with his fingers. Kuroo giggled. “Every once in a while he acts like my mother too, but I assume I need it. To be honest, without him my career wouldn’t even exist so…” the DJ shrugged, taking his glasses off and bending down to wash his hands and face at the sink Kuroo was leaning on.

Kuroo could feel the heat radiating from the other’s body, even though there wasn’t any touch. Not that he didn’t want to touch Kei. He was actually fighting this strong urge to lower his hands and feel everywhere he could reach.

“Kuroo? Are you alright?”

Snapping out of it, he saw Tsukishima looking up at him beneath heavy eyelids, his hands cupped and filled with water and his back still arched graciously over the sink.

Too close.

Maybe at this rate he could already hear Kuroo’s heartbeat.

He gulped.

“No… No, I’m great.”

That was a huge fat lie.

Kuroo thought his heart would fail him at any second now, because Tsukishima’s face was now soaking wet and dripping with water, droplets sticking to his eyelashes and his upper lip.

He was drinking the view in when the DJ made a sudden movement and started wiping his face with his shirt without taking it off… giving Kuroo a full, first seat view of his abdomen.

This show was better than the one he’d performed earlier, and Kuroo was visibly not-alright. His throat was ten times dryer.

It also seemed like the best time to inspect the ceiling, hoping to avoid the staring that would surely keep going as long as Tsukishima’s shirt wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

When Kuroo glanced at the mirror, he saw the other putting his glasses back and also saw something that looked a lot like a malicious smirk.

He decided to keep staring at the ceiling.

Until Tsukishima called him.

“Ah, Kuroo?”

Reacting instantly to his voice, Kuroo turned his head to find out that things reflected in the mirror are closer than they appear to be. In that particular scenario, impossibly closer.

The smirk was still there, still confident, still taunting. Tsukishima laid his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder while the other lunged past his neck, touching it unpretentiously.

Kuroo shivered.

Tsukishima grabbed something and tugged.

_Oh, the cap. Of course._

After taking it, though, Kei didn’t move an inch, still pressing the other against the sink.

Kuroo was absolutely sure that he’d never have luck in anything ever again.

He smiled.

Kei’s smirk hadn’t faltered, despite the slight pink that dusted his cheeks.

Kuroo cleared his throat and let his hands touch Tsukishima’s waist, and wasn’t very surprised when the other kept him pinned to the sink, not moving an inch.

He cleared his throat before opening his mouth again.

“So Kei, do you need anything else?”

“Maybe I do.”

The anticipation was killing them both, but it was Tsukishima’s phone who made a move and started ringing desperately. He fished it out of his pocket and frowned when he saw who was calling.

“Shit, it’s Saeko, she’s here to get me. Shit. I didn’t get my things yet. Shit shit shit.”

“Oops. Sorry?”

Tsukishima just looked at him, still frowning while letting go of the other, and answered the call. “Hey. Ouch… No need to scream at me, Saeko. I’ll be right there, give me five minutes. Promise. Yup, I’m good, I can get everything on my own. Yes. Ok.” He hung up then turned to face Kuroo again. “I have to hurry if I wish to keep on breathing.”

Tsukishima ran backstage, leaving Kuroo alone in the bathroom, the last events still processing in his mind.

He went back to the lounge at the same time Kei was coming from backstage and towards the exit. He stopped, turned and waved to Kuroo, motioning him to come closer.

Not that Kuroo was actually going to let him go like that.

“Forgot something, Kei?”

“I uh… I don’t usually do this.”

“Should I be flattered?”

A laugh.

“Maybe.”

“When can I see you again?”

“On Friday.”

“Oh? You’re asking me out!”

“No I’m not.”

“Then what?”

“I’m a resident here. I play every Friday. If you drop by we can chat a bit more about my cat and your rebellious hair.”

And now the cap was back on Kuroo’s head.

“Hey, I thought you wanted this back.”

“You can give it back to me on Friday. Also, you don’t really want to walk around with that terrible bedhead, it’ll scare people.”

A smirk and a pout.

“Kei, you’re so mean!”

“Well, maybe I’m not.”

“I’ll have to wait until Friday to know for sure, then.”

“Yup. Until then.”

Tsukishima left and Kuroo never wished so much for a week to end.


	2. drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter named after Eden Project's song, drowning. ([YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKaNodcBiLA)/[Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Gu6GxGcH3D0abQDS2IOyF))
> 
> This fic has a playlist on [ Spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/6Nwks1tjlYtm5MdprYCMaI).
> 
> Special thanks for the greatest beta, Pixie ♥  
> And for Natizilda, who holds my hand 24/7 and drown me with awesome ideas!

The ‘next friday’ became a whole month of meetings inside Club Alpaca’s VIP lounge. The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, even though sometimes they had to scream to hear each other or tolerate a rookie DJ.

The second Friday they discussed philosophy and what was the exact time for cooking the best pasta.

The third one was cut short because Tsukishima had a headache (and because the DJ that played after him was terrible).

This was their fourth meeting, and it was a bit frustrating that, despite all the others, the bathroom incident had been an isolated occurence.

Not that Tsukishima didn’t feel like throwing himself over Kuroo again, but it was disconcerting to see that the other hadn’t changed a bit from the first time they met. He kept teasing, dropped sarcastic comments like they were ‘good mornings’ and still smiled in that ‘I-don’t-want-a-thing-except-I-do’ way. Tsukishima was starting to think he’d been wrong and it was all in his head, and that Kuroo was actually just a very nice and very interesting guy that didn’t want anything with him.

Him.

Oh.

Tsukishima didn’t even know if Kuroo was gay. He speculated, of course, but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be sure.

So there he was, at the fourth friday, leaning against the counter and waiting for Kuroo to show up. He knew that the other was there, it was impossible to miss him amidst the crowd because he stood out vertically and because of his unmistakable bedhead. Considering that he also made sure he was always at the front row, Tsukishima was certain that yes, Kuroo was at the club.

And after a few moments he showed up as if on cue, sitting comfortably beside Kei at the counter and asking for two strawberry with sake drinks. He grinned and gave him a nod.

“What up, Kei. I enjoyed your set tonight, it was very.... elegant.”

Tsukishima huffed, but was unable to keep the curiousity away from his voice.

“Elegant?”

‘Yeah, you sounded brilliant and your setlist was very tasteful. Also, your transitions were flawless, I couldn’t point out when one song ended and another began. You were awesome. But I missed the cat song tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t feel like playing it today.”

“But it is your best song, the most known! Did something happen?”

Tsukishima looked into Kuroo’s eyes and saw concern. He decided it was a good time to stir his drink, running away from that gaze.

He gulped, he drank, he huffed, but the concern didn’t fade from the other’s eyes. Eyes that kept glued to his face, scanning even the smallest of details to try and pin what he was really feeling.

It was overwhelming.

Finally, he sighed in defeat.

“We had a fight.”

“We?”

“Me and the cat.”

Kuroo’s eyes went wide open before they closed while he let out a snicker.

“Tsukishima Kei, how can you have a fight with your cat?”

Kei shrugged, trying to show indifference, but his frustration was clear as day.

“He bit me.”

“You clearly have to train him better.”

Kuroo looked at him, waiting for a smile or a similar reaction, but Kei’s expression didn’t faulter.

“C’mon, Tsukishima, this isn’t a valid reason to be mad at him! You’re talking like your cat never dug his nails into you before!”

“Of course he did, but this time he caught me off guard and really, really hurt me.”

“Ok. Let me see it.”

“Are you a doctor? No, I don’t think so.”

“Stop with the drama and let me see it already, Kei.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“I’ve never asked anything from you.”

“No.”

“Ooh, I know! He bit you somewhere indecent.”

Kei turned to face Kuroo, slightly red and visibly irritated.

“No.”

Kuroo bit his lip, noticing how Kei’s mood had suddenly became sour. He decided to quickly change the subject.

“Ok, but you never told me the name of your cat.”

“It's embarrassing.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’d rather spare myself the shame.”

“Ahhh Kei, come on!”

That seemed to push him over the edge.

“Why are you so interested in my life anyway? I'm boring and you don't have to ask stuff just to amuse me.”

Kuroo cocked his head to the side, apparently confused.

“Well but the thing is: I really want to know you. You're not boring at all, you're great! I'm genuinely curious about the things you like and the things you do. I'm interested in you.”

There was an awkward silence atfer that. Sensing the tension that was building up between them, Kei opened his mouth to say something, anything really, but was cut short by Kuroo’s low voice.

“I mean! You’re a nice person and we have lots in common so it’s only natural to be interested, right?”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, washing his disappointment down his throat with strawberry and alcohol. Right. It was only natural. So Kuroo didn’t think of him that way, after all. It seemed like he’d just been friendzoned… and it hurt more than he’d imagined.

Kei took a deep breath while considering his options.

He could call it a night, go home and forget about this weird guy right now.

He could tell him his feelings and ask for explanations. _As if,_ he thought to himself.

Or he could enjoy this a little longer and decide when to run away later.

_Tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow’s me._

Maybe he could use a friend right now.

“Lord Whiskers.”

“What the hell?”

“The name. The exceedingly cringeworthy name of my damn cat, the one whom I wrote a song for, the one who bit me this morning.”

“Lord Whiskers?”

“Lord Whiskers.”

Kuroo snickered before letting out a sonorous laugh.

“Tsukishima, that is a great name for a cat! Not very creative, but still great!”

The DJ let his chin rest on his entwined hands, while his elbows were on the bar counter, looking at the other from above his black rims.

What the hell did Kuroo want anyway? He kept sending mixed signals and it was driving Tsukishima mad.

He would never let that show, though, and kept his impassible façade as Kuroo kept laughing.

“Your standards of ‘great’ don't make sense to me, Kuroo.”

“Come on, Kei, it's hilarious!”

“Yeah, I thought so for a month. The laughability will wear off with time.”

“We'll see about that, but right now, hold my phone. I have to pee.”

Kuroo strode to the bathroom almost skipping, still cackling. Tsukishima stood there, sitting on a stool at the counter. The barman looked at him and winked.

“You've became such good friends!”

He sent the barman a glare. “Well, Andrew, you surely are paying attention to my life aren’t you?”

Andrew, the barman, was one of Kei’s university acquaintances. He had always been red-haired and had always worked at Club Alpaca. In fact, Tsukishima owed him for putting him on the club schedule, since Andrew was the one to convince the owner to sign with Yamaguchi’s agency.

“Ah, but it’s very hard to not pay attention to the chemistry between you two. It’s almost palpable. Hypnotizing. Leaves a smile on everyone’s faces. It’s good for business.”

“Andrew, I’m really not-”

“I mean, the drink you’re always having is the new best selling item on the menu, leaving the usual whiskey with honey behind and-”

“What?! What does that have to do with me?”

“Well, people come here and see the pair of you laughing and having so much fun, they wanna have what you’re having so… Strawberry and sake for everyone, basically.”

“What the hell Andrew, don’t say such things with a straight face, it’s creepy.”

The barman flashed him a mischievous grin before turning to get another customer’s order.

Well, he was kind of right.

They had too much fun together, it almost felt like a sin. Being with Kuroo was easy, warm and made him feel like he was worth something, which was a huge contrast to what he usually felt.

Also, he was very handsome. And didn’t take any of his provocations seriously. And he made him laugh. And he was interested in his music. And he provoked Tsukishima too.

It was almost too good to be true, except for the fact the guy in question had just turned him down.

His line of thought was rudely interrupted by a vibration inside his jeans. Kei fished his phone out of his pocket and stared, trying to understand why it was displaying the time instead of indicating who was calling. Then, he realized that, actually, the phone that was vibrating wasn’t his own, but Kuroo’s.

Warily, he took it out of his pocket and observed while a flood of messages from the contact “Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)” popped out in quick succession.

[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Kuroo, I’m here.  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Where are you?  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Oh I can’t believe you forgot about me.  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Kuroo I can’t get in  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] I hate you so much you always do this to me  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Why do you have to be like this  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] I didn’t sign for this.  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] i wanna die  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] i wanna die so much but i wanna kill u first  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] KUROO WHY DO YOU HATE ME  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] COME BACK TO ME  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LEFT ME AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] I NEVER ASKED ANYTHING FROM YOU  
[Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=)] are you there? will you take long? :<

It was clear as day that, whoever that Kenma was, they were someone really close to Kuroo and that Tsukishima shouldn’t be reading those messages at the lock screen.

To his dismay, as soon as he thought that the phone showed an incoming call from Kenma (=^ ಠェಠ^=).

Kei got up and swayed his way to the bathroom, finding the other drying his hands with a paper towel. He put the phone within Kuroo’s vision range.

“Kenma’s calling. You got a thousand messages from them, who apparently hate you now for some reason.”

“Shit! Gimme that, let me see.”

When he grabbed the phone, though, it stopped ringing. Tsukishima huffed, watching as Kuroo’s gaze flicked through the messages at impressive speed, his frown deepening as he read them all. Kei’s stomach was showing him the exact feeling you have when you freefall into a bottomless pit. Kuroo’s expression alone told that Kenma was, indeed, someone very dear to him.

The words that followed tasted like stone, even if they were spoken from the other’s mouth.

“Ah shit Kei, I have to go right now, it’s an emergency.”

Despite not having Kuroo's phone in his hands anymore, Tsukishima could feel the weight of it like a ghost, accusing him of reading the messages that obviously weren't for him. It was weird that Kuroo didn't ask why he'd been reading his messages or anything like that. It was the worst. He felt guilty.

Wearing his best poker face, he gave Kuroo a quick nod and a silent “OK.”. The guy smiled at Kei, making him feel even worse for sticking his nose and reading the damn messages. Sickening, almost.

Kuroo stormed out of the bathroom, leaving a bitter Tsukishima behind. He didn't know who he hated more. Himself, for believing Kuroo wanted something other than being friends; Kuroo, for making him feel like that or Andrew, the damn barman that fanned the flames of his hope that maybe they had something special.

He felt like a fool. Pathetic. Idiot.

Well.

Life goes on. He didn't have to choose anymore, it seemed that Kenma chose for him.

But it hurt.

Tsukishima took of his glasses and leant to wash his face at the nearest sink when the door opened suddenly. Glancing up, he saw the silhouette of a person that he couldn't identify, but looked quite familiar.

His gaze went up. Even without his glasses on, he recognized Kuroo, the bedhair unmistakable.

There was an awkward, long silence.

“Weren't you in a hurry?” Tsukishima's words left his mouth harshly, with a lot of bite and an invisible hint of curiosity.

More silence.

“Yes, well, I am still in a hurry but um…” With a swift move, Kuroo produced a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Tsukishima, who stared at it in confusion.

“It’s my phone number. I’m sorry we have to cut this short, I was having a lot of fun like always and I thought it’d be nice to see you before next Friday. We can grab a coffee or anything, just…” he wriggled the paper again. This time, Kei took it. “Thanks Kei. I’m sorry about today. I really am. But I really need to go now so… uh, give me a call ok? If you want, of course. Otherwise, you know I'll be here next week, so… Ok. Uh. Bye.”

Tsukishima was left alone in the bathroom again, still trying to process it all. It was so confusing: didn’t Kuroo say that he wasn’t interested in _that_ way? Why would he be giving him his number then? What the hell was going on? Was he reading Kuroo the wrong way all this time?

His head still spinning, he grabbed the door handle to leave the bathroom (why it all seemed to happen inside that bathroom anyway?) when said handle turned itself and the door was pushed open, again.

It was Kuroo, again.

“I forgot something.”

“What the h-”

Tsukishima tried to protest, but Kuroo was crowding him and pinning him against the same sink he pinned Kuroo four weeks ago.

Maybe it was karma.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was just a coincidence anyway.

But surely Kuroo knew what he was doing when he closed the distance between them, giving him a sweet peck on the lips that ended as soon as it began. Tsukishima was paralyzed. Kuroo took advantage of that and snatched his cap, putting it on.

“I can’t be seen on the streets without having this on, huh? Ok. Now I really, really, reeeally  have to go. Call me.”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

Tsukishima wasn’t sure he could function anymore.

\---

He left the bathroom airheaded and went to pay his bill. The barman had the smugest of grins on his face when he asked, playfully:

“What, you want to pay it again?”

“Huh?”

Andrew kept smiling. “Well, your ‘friend’ has already paid for your bill, including this last strawberry one.” The barman carefully pushed the glass towards him.

Smooth. Kei couldn’t help but smile.

“That one is a keeper, Tsukki.”

He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks before he could think of a response to that provocation, so he settled with a death glare and a “Shut up, Andrew!”. He felt like screaming and giggling like a teenager, and he wasn’t even that drunk.

He took a sip. It was extra sugary and didn't erase the feeling of Kuroo’s lips.

Andrew’s smile was still there when he put the glass down.

“Wanna tell me about him?”

_Yes._

“No.”

He focused on the horizon, which was more or less between the rum bottles and the Jaegermeister behind the counter. Downing the remaining drink quickly, he waved goodbye to his barman friend and gathered his things to head back home.

The streets were deserted at that time of the night, except for a few couples walking hand in hand, drunkards and some groups of people here and there. Luckily, none of them seemed to be interested in heading home, so all the taxis were vacant. Tsukishima hopped into one and gave him the diretions to his apartment complex, relaxing against the backseat while the familiar scenery passed outside.

He had his headphones on to prevent the driver to engage in small talk, but the music’s volume was low enough so he could hear him if needed. The melody was like a background to his thoughts, that ranged from the new song he was working on to what he’d have to eat when he got home. The sweetly sour taste of the drink lingered on his tongue, mouth and whole body, a reminder of the night. A faint sense of contact still lingered on his lips too, reliving the moment when Kuroo kissed him, making him blush.

_Shit._

Kuroo was so confusing. At first, he was all flirtatious. Then, he took a step back and seemed to stop hitting on him, treating like a good friend. Tonight, he said he was interested on him, only to take it back a few moments later and dismiss it as a friendly interest and not a romantic one. Also tonight, he left him for some other person who he’d never talked about before. Who was Kenma, after all? A lover? A girl? Maybe he had a child? Tsukishima couldn’t know. And then, to top it off, he kissed him. Kuroo kissed him. Square on the lips. Sure, it was too quick to jump to conclusions but a kiss is a kiss and Kuroo definitely kissed him.

The street lamps were dimming against the dawn of a new day, natural light replacing the artificial one gradually. Kei recognised his peaceful neighbourhood, bathed in warm, orange sunlight. It was quiet too, no one in sight. Just what he needed to get his mind back on track.

The taxi came to a stop and gave him something else to think about. Kei payed for the run and lazily made his way across the hall, calling the elevator. Leaning against the wall, he checked his reflection on the nearest mirror. Even from that distance, he could tell that he looked awful. His jeans were all wrinkly, his usual gray hoodie seemed even grayer. His hair was sticking up in all directions, clearly upset by being neglected beneath the cap all evening.

Cap that now was with Kuroo.

Kuroo.

The guy who kissed him.

_Not this again. Come on brain, cooperate_

The guy who kissed him and tasted like sugar and strawberries, the one who kissed Kei at the exact same spot where Kei was going to kiss his when they met.

That guy.

_I'm so fucked._

Tsukishima wished he could stop thinking so casually about the other. He usually didn't let people into his life so easily, and that guy seemed to fit right into it quite hastily, spontaneously, deeply. It was new, exciting… And he was terrified.

A sonorous ‘beep’ stole his attention, signaling that the elevator was finally there. It felt like a reminder that his problems didn't revolve around Kuroo, as much as he was the chosen thought topic of the month.

So.

He entered the lift, his mind wandering between making sure the clothes were really dry before putting them on the next day and Yamaguchi asking him about his next release, which should happen soon to capitalize on the fact that he was now a resident at Club Alpaca, which had a rising reputation, which he was helping to build. His thoughts raced as the doors closed, his body relaxing because he was so close to home… but they never closed.

A small hand stopped them, the movement sensor halting it all. The owner of said hand was a young man, too bright and loud for his own good. He grinned from ear to ear, apparently not tired at all even though he was also coming back from somewhere. He wore a simple jeans, an oversized black sweatshirt, sneakers and a black wool beanie that made his orange hair stand out even more. Tsukishima was one hundred percent sure that his hair was radioactive, if that color was something to go by. The smaller man rocked back and forth on his feet, while humming to a song that was too happy for a saturday morning. He looked like he’d been plugged and was overcharged. And Kei really could do without that right now.

All his hopes were dissolved at the moment the other guy turned to him and smiled, after pressing the button to his floor.

“Hey Tsukishima!”

“Hello, Hinata.”

“I’m glad I managed to jump on the elevator, it would take a thousand years to get down again… It’s so slooooooow…”

“Maybe you should try going by stairs the next time.”

“But we live at the eleventh floor!”

“It’s good exercise.”

“I’d be dead by the time I got there!”

Kei huffed, annoyed. That caught the young man’s attention, and he kept quiet while the lift was still going up at the slowest pace imaginable. Hinata seemed to be struggling a lot with being silent, glancing at Tsukishima and fidgeting, bubbling with questions. Instead, he resumed humming his song and, as strange as it may seem, Kei felt pleased by this small gesture of compassion.

They were neighbours, after all.

The elevator reached the eleventh floor and opened his doors slowly. They got out quickly, eager to finally get home and enjoy the comfort of being there. Hinata reached for the doorbell while Tsukishima searched for his keys, apparently lost inside his huge backpack.

The other door was opened and it was possible to see the figure of another young man in his pajamas. He held his head low, certainly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and his pitch black hair was covering half of his face. His pajamas’ choice was, at least, questionable - who the hell would wear a volleyball print pajama anyway? - but Kei shrugged mentally and persevered on his quest to find his keys.

He heard a yelp and a groggy voice.

“Where the hell were you? Hinata, you dumbass, why didn’t you take your keys with you?”

“I forgot them!”

“Ugh, you never remember that anyway.”

"I’m sorry, Kageyama!”

 Kei’s attention was temporarily dragged to their conversation, because it sounded strangely familiar.

  _Where are you._

 Keys.

 Getting locked out.

 Then, it hit him.

 _[Kenma_ _(=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Kuroo, I’m here._  
_[Kenma_ _(=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Where are you?_  
_[Kenma_ _(=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Oh I can’t believe you forgot about me.  
__[Kenma_ _(=^ ಠェಠ^=)] Kuroo I can’t get in_

Kenma was probably Kuroo’s flatmate. If they were a he or a she, Kei didn’t know. Nor did he know about their relationship, but it was very likely Kenma was Kuroo’s flatmate.

Not that he cared, or anything like that.

Tsukishima finally found his own set of keys and unlocked the door, breathing deeply as soon as he set foot inside. When he turned to close and lock the door again, his two loud neighbours were staring at him curiously.

“Goodnight, neighbour!” Hinata said, waving, while the other seemed to bow.

He nodded and closed the door, relief washing over his bones as every inch of his body claimed for a bath, then bed.

At least the whole scene with his neighbours made him forget about his concerns, about what happened earlier, about Kuroo and his soft lips and his cinnamon taste and his musky perfume and...

_Shit._

A cold shower later, Tsukishima tossed and turned on his bed, the ghost of the kiss still very present on his mouth.

_I am beyond fucked._

It was the last thing he thought before finally falling asleep.

\---

It was around three o'clock in the afternoon when Tsukishima got up from his bed. He'd slept pretty well, considering the amount of time he spent rolling around, trying to relax. He didn't wake, he didn't dream, but he rested a lot. His mind was clear now that he managed to forget that Kuroo kissed him.

Yeah, he completely forgot. He was over it. Totally not thinking about it.

Everything was right in the world except for the tiny fact that he had a raging hangover, making his head feel like being pressed between two sumo fighters. The sunlight burned his eyes, and he'd try and stay in bed for a little longer if not for the delicious, enticing, mouth-watering smell of fresh bread coming from God knows where that tended him he was _starving_. With a loud groan, he got up, staying still for a while to make his room stop spinning so much.

Step by step he reached the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and drank it all in one go. His tongue was numb, his sense of taste severely toned down. The coffee machine started hissing, signaling that it'd soon be done with it, pleasing Kei immensely. Lazily, he made his way towards the cupboard to reach for a cup, the one which had cute small dinosaurs on it: his favorite.

The peace within the apartment soothed his head and clouded his thoughts. Lord Whiskers mewled shyly before tangling himself between Kei’s legs and purring. What a blessing.

As soon as he sat his cup on the table, though, such peace was disturbed by a loud, annoying doorbell.

Tsukishima could swear he felt the sound waves reverberating through his skull, creating ripples on his brain.

He let out a whimper, giving zero fucks about how pathetic he sounded, and opened the door with the biggest, scariest, wrinkliest frown he managed.

There, standing in front of him, were his two neighbours. Kageyama was wearing an apron over his volleyball pajamas, flour sprinkled on his cheeks, while a bunch of Hinata's hair was covered with it too. He was carrying a suspicious looking towel like a baby.

“What the f-”

“Hi, Tsukishima! We brought you a loaf of homemade bread!”

Hinata handed the ‘baby’ to him. It was still warm, which made everything 100% creepier. Kei was half expecting whatever was wrapped in that towel to start crying sooner or later, but, fortunatelly, it never did.

He had some questions, though.

“Why would you do that all of a sudden?”

“Well… Kageyama started baking like crazy and he ended up making more than we can eat in a month or so.”

“You dumbass! You helped me!”

“Technically I was just making sure you didn’t blow up our kitchen!”

“Hinata…” Kageyama said in a low, threatening voice, and Tsukishima felt like he needed to intervene.

“Listen, both of you. I’m having  the worst headache in years so please stop yelling and don’t fight in the hall, go back to your apartment if you’re going to do it.”

The odd duo shot him two identical blank stares, intrigued. He sighed and continued: “Thank you for giving me this.”

Hinata's smile was infectious, huge. Kageyama’s was small but satisfied, and a little creepy because of that. Tsukishima resisted the strong urge to smile back at them, not allowing himself to show any kind of emotion until he saw their door closing behind them.

He headed back inside, entering the kitchen and closing the hall door. Ok. So his creepy loud odd neighbours gave him bread. That was weird, weirder because he didn't even know them until the night before. Well, he'd seen them around, but never really got past the “hello” until yest- today.

What if they thought he was annoying? What if this was some kind of revenge from that night Lord Whiskers mewled the whole time? What if it was a trap, and the bread was poisoned?

 _“_ Better safe than sorry.”

Tsukishima got his laptop and brought it to the kitchen, sipping his coffee as his casually searched for “poisoned bread” on Google.

Three minutes later, he was halfway through his mug of coffee and hadn’t find any signs of poison on the gift. It was time for desperate measures.

One.

Two.

Three rings later a familiar voice was coming through the receiver.

“Tsukki?”

“Yamaguchi, how do you know if your neighbours want to murder you?”

“W-w-what?!”

“My neighbours just gave me a homemade bread.”

Yamaguchi laughed.

“Well, they look like good amicable people, then. And you know that you need to eat properly, so maybe they're the answer to my prayers.”

“You never even saw them and you're putting my life at their hands like that. I thought we were friends.”

“Tsukki, they most likely are good people with no reason to poison you.”

“But what if they have a reason?”

“Well, have you killed someone from their families?”

“No.”

“Have you slept with one of their girlfriends?”

“Uh, no.”

Yamaguchi gasped. “Oh! With their boyfriends, then!”

Tsukishima blushed infinitely, his thoughts going to Kuroo and the kiss and his soft lips and everything that went through last night. “Yamaguchi I swear to-”

“I get it, I get it. But you see, there’s no reason at all for them to want you dead.”

He eyed the suspicious bread once more.

“I want you to know that if I die, the fault is all yours.”

“If you die, can I keep your laptop and Lord Whiskers?”

“Are you sure you want this scumbag into your life?”

“Well, if you’re gone, no one’s better than that scumbag to substitute you!”

They laughed.

“You’re the worst, Yamaguchi. I’m very proud.”

“Ehehe, I’m glad, Tsukki! Listen, while we’re at it, I wanna know how’s your new song going and-”

“Yeah, about that… I’m working on it. I just got up.”

“WHAT?! IT’S THREE IN THE AFTERNOON!”

“Tough night.”

“Hm? Haven’t you played at Club Alpaca yesterd- ohhhhhhhhhhh!”

All alarms inside Tsukishima’s mind lit up at the same time with Yamaguchi’s exclamation.

“Tsukki! You’re seeing someone!”

He let out a gasp, red as a pepper, and thanked every god in heaven that this was not a face to face conversation.

“No I’m not.” Kei said, in the most flat voice he could manage. It wasn’t a lie: he and Kuroo were just hanging out together after his shows and…

Kuroo. Who had kissed him and gave him his number.

“There’s no use in lying to me Tsukki! I’m your best friend AND you manager.”

“And my fucking mom.”

“Watch your language, boy!”

“I’ll talk to you later, I should really work on that song.”

“You’re just weaseling out of this aren’t you?”

“Am not.”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not, and I’ll talk to you later.”

“Hmmm this is suspicious, Tsukki. Very.”

“Listen, do you want this song to be finished soon?”

“Ok, ok, I get it. Talk to you later!”

He hung up and let his upper body fall on the table. Lord Whiskers jumped on it and majestically lied beside Tsukishima’s head, stretching a paw to touch his cheek. Kei huffed. Even his cat was pitying him now.

His stomach grumbled, reacting to the absence of a lunch and the nice, warm smell of the bread lying in front of his nose.

It was time.

He sliced it perfectly, the knife smoothly  running through the loaf. Almost too perfectly. Holding the slice as if it was contagious, he spread a little butter on it and took a deep breath before plunging his white teeth in. Lord Whiskers observed attentively while he chewed, wondering if that bread was good enough to die for.

To say it was delicious would be an understatement. The taste started light, discreet, but seemed to intensify with each bite.

Maybe he could get used to that duo.

His mind was going back to the blissful state it was in before the doorbell rang when Lord Whiskers, tired of watching, got up and started looking for a distraction on the table. Soon enough, he found a piece of paper to dig his claws into. Not soon enough, Tsukishima realized that was the piece of paper Kuroo wrote his number on.

Panicking a bit, he lunged and grabbed the paper, but his playful cat took that as a permission to use Kei's hand as his new toy, biting and scratching it.

Unfortunately for Kei, Lord Whiskers didn't know how strong he was, being a full grown, grey, fluffy and a little overweight Persian cat.

“Ouch!” Tsukishima exclaimed, retracting his hand.

The cat hissed.

Kei hissed back.

Lord Whiskers seemed to get the idea and ran away, disappearing into the living room. Kei had the piece of paper secured inside his now bitten hand.

Even after all that, he couldn't quite forget Kuroo's face asking him about the cat, about the bite, about everything. Especially that face he made after kissing him. That one he couldn't forget, like it was ingrained into his brain, engraved to his eyelids.

So he got his phone and gathered all courage within him to dial that number and call Kuroo already.

Then he hesitated.

And hesitated.

And hesitated.

\---

It was seven when he decided he was being ridiculous, but he kept staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring.

But it didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat song is [Runaway (You & I) - Galantis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szj59j0hz_4). And the cat's name... I have zero excuses. 
> 
> Hope you liked the update! The third chapter is already in the works (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧


	3. Intermission #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing... the neighbors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! This is just a brief update to show the neighbors that debuted in the last chapter :D  
> I'll be doing a few intermissions between major chapters to further develop the whole scenario and secondary characters.
> 
> Chapter 3 is in the works! /)u(\
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Hinata woke up to the smell of fresh homemade bread flooding all his senses. Yawning, he got up and stretched, the last vestigies of sleep vanishing. The scent was numbing all his thoughts, so he ran straight to the kitchen, determined to find it’s source.

Much to his surprise, the source was… his own oven.

Kageyama stood there, apron and all, kneading a considerable amount of dough.

“Kageyama, what is this?!”

“Bread.”

“What?”

“I’m baking bread.”

“Isn't that a series… No, wait, but why are you baking bread right now?”

Kageyama looked at him, frowning. His glare was only half efficient, since his face was smudged with flour here and there, and his voice was several tones higher than usual. “Because you said I should look for a hobby to distract myself! I’m baking now. This is my hobby.”

Hinata’s jaw dropped before he started howling with laughter.

“Why are you laughing, dumbass, I’m serious!”

“That’s exactly the reason why it’s so funny! You’re too serious about it!” Hinata managed to say after calming down a bit. “Anyway, if there’s a freshly baked loaf right there, why are you still kneading dough?”

“That one is too stubborn.”

“Stubborn? What do you mean?”

“You know when I say to you that I don’t need distraction but you keep insisting I should try having a hobby?”

“Uh… yes?”

“That’s because you’re stubborn.”

Hinata giggled.

“Oi, I know what stubbornness is! But why would a loaf of bread be stubborn?”

“You chew and it never goes away. You toast it but it stays soft.”

“Isn’t it crap then?”

“No, no. It tastes good, although the taste never goes away. It’s just… stubborn.”

Kageyama was really into this new hobby, it seemed, and Hinata got caught up into it, offering to help. They spent a good portion of their morning mixing, kneading and baking all kinds of bread and, when they looked around, they’d made much more than they could eat.

The idea of gifting one of the loafs to Tsukishima came from Hinata, but the one who chose said loaf was Kageyama, claiming to know exactly which one would be the best for him.

It was one of the plain ones, with the right balance of fluffiness, salt and acidity.

Kageyama also said it had a nice crescendo, whatever that meant.

And so, after wrapping the gift into a nice towel, they crossed the hall and rang Tsukishima’s doorbell, expectantly.


	4. Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would Tsukishima call? The doubt was tearing Kuroo apart and, as a side effect, driving Kenma mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! Here are some more characters to the AU, I hope you like them /)u(\ (I really, really do.)
> 
> Thanks for the beautiful Pixie for beta reading <3
> 
> This fic has a playlist on [ Spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/6Nwks1tjlYtm5MdprYCMaI).
> 
> Additionally, for this chapter (and probably all following "Kuroo" chapters) there's [ another playlist on Spotify. ](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/0R31i3EDv30aOk47Fg8XQ6)
> 
> Chapter named after [Madness - Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mq9zhpBweDk).
> 
> Enjoy! :D

It was cold outside the club and the wind was unrelenting. Kuroo held on to his - Kei’s - cap in a tentative of staying a bit warm while he looked for a place to shelter from the draft. Despite the weather, he felt warm. Light. Radiant.

The ghost of Tsukishima’s warm lips lingered on his, like a secret, a promise. It made him giggle to himself like a mad man.

Well, he was _insanely_ happy.

He felt like he could conquer the world, confident that Tsukishima was going to contact him soon and they'd have their first date.

Even facing a very pissed off Kenma was no problem to him, who dismissed the other’s complaints about being stuck outside for half an hour with a wave of hand and a tight hug.

Kenma found his behavior weird but didn’t say anything about it, not quite wanting to dampen the mood when Kuroo was so ecstatic.

Entering their cozy apartment, Kenma went for a hot shower and followed straight to bed. He could deal with Kuroo’s happiness in the next day.

\---

It didn't matter how much Kuroo looked at his phone, it refused to ring.

Since the night before, when he had to cut his usual date with Tsukishima short because he locked Kenma outside the house, his phone had remained in absolute silence. All his confidence was drained, leaving an insecure Kuroo behind. It was maddening. And it was slowly driving Kenma mad too, since he had to deal with his flatmate pacing through the corridor, living room and kitchen constantly.

At some point, he could only hear Kuroo’s footsteps echoing, nothing else. Not even his game.

Usually, Kuroo would figure things out on his own, but this time he seemed absolutely lost. It was one of the rare ocasions that he showed his insecurities on his face, so Kenma decided to act.

“Kuroo, please stop. You’ll make a hole on the floor.”

“Why doesn't he call me, Kenma?”

“He? Who's ‘he’?”

Kuroo froze in front of Kenma’s room, looking at him through the doorway with wide eyes filled with disbelief.

“Hah? What do you mean? You know far too well who this ‘he’ is! Tsukishima Kei, the DJ! I spent the whole month talking about him, its all your fault for showing me his music!”

Kenma turned back to his game, but didn’t resume playing. “Ah, that ‘he’.”

“Who else could it be, Kenma? Who do you think it was?”

“I knew that it was him you were talking about, I just wanted you to admit out loud that you’ve been rambling about him for a month now.”

Kuroo gasped, and Kenma couldn’t stop a snicker.

“KENMA! You’re so, so evil. Evil mastermind. A super villain pretending to be Prince Charming.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You deceived me! I can’t believe you… You… You’re just like Hans from Frozen!”

“Who is this guy, I haven’t even watched Frozen…”

“BUT I DID AND NOW I KNOW YOUR WICKED PLAN!”

Kenma took a deep breath and gave up on talking rationally with his best friend. He turned his attention to the game once again and was about to unpause it when Kuroo’s silhouette appeared in his peripheral field of vision.

“What if he never calls? Should I still go to Club Alpaca on Friday?”

“If he doesn’t call you, you give up, we share some ice cream and life goes on.”

Kuroo plopped onto Kenma’s bed, making him jump on the mattress involuntarily. After recovering, Kenma moved, giving space for Kuroo to lay properly.

Kenma waited for a few moments before returning to his game, assuming Kuroo was done talking.

He wasn’t.

“But what if I don’t wanna give up, Kenma?”

Kenma rolled his eyes, fully aware that Kuroo couldn’t see him. “Why don’t _you_ call him then?”

Silence.

Silence occasionally broken by the ‘bleeps’ in Kenma’s game.

There was a sigh, and the bed shifted as Kuroo moved. His voice was muffled when he spoke.

“Because I didn’t get his phone number.”

Pause.

“What?”

“I panicked! I wrote my phone in a hurry and gave it to him! I didn’t get his number… I did something stupid...”

More silence.

Kenma was stunned by Kuroo’s lack of interpersonal skills, something he normally excelled at. He turned to look at his older friend, and had to stifle a laugh. Kuroo’s face was covered with a pillow, and he was groaning, body language screaming ‘frustration’.

“I can’t believe that you’re almost thirty years old and still have no tact.”

Kuroo groaned louder, but didn’t move or complain more than that. Weird. That set off all the alarms inside Kenma’s mind. He poked the other’s arm.

“Aren’t you going to complain that I just called you a thirty year old?”

More muffled groans, and Kenma was starting to lose all hope.

“It can’t be that bad. You didn’t do anything st-”

“Kenma, I kissed him.”

There was silence, and then the silence was disrupted by a sharp inhale coming from the younger.

“What did you just say?”

“I kissed him.”

“Well, now I can see why you’re worried. _You are an idiot_. Why would you kiss him if you’re not sure he likes you in the first place?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I just... did. And now he hates me.”

“Kuroo, you can’t be sure of that.”

“Well you can’t be sure he doesn’t hate me either so that makes us even!” Kuroo had removed the pillow from his face and now Kenma was able to see him blushing hard.

“You’re blushing!”

“Am not!”

Kenma laughed. “Yes, you are.”

A pillow flew in his direction, but Kenma was quick enough to grab it midair. He couldn’t wipe that stupid grin on his face. Kuroo was such a child sometimes. He snickered while poking Kuroo again. “You’re supposed to be the oldest and wisest expert with people here, Kuroo. How come you’re acting like a 12 year old with a crush?”

The silence between them stretched for long seconds. Maybe Kenma had struck a nerve there.

The next time Kuroo spoke, his voice was low and serious.

“What do I do if he doesn’t call me, Ken?”

“I don’t know, Kuroo. I really don’t.”

Silence.

“We’ll figure it out if he doesn’t.” Kenma said, reaching out to pat Kuroo’s head.

Kuroo still looked worried, but it was visible he relaxed a little after talking. He picked up one of the pillows and set it beside Kenma, lying on his belly and watching his best friend run through a difficult level of Donkey Kong, throwing random advice that he didn’t even need. It was enough to occupy his mind for the time being, and Kenma didn't complain.

It was peaceful for a while, the ‘bleeps’ filling up the air and the sun warming their backs.

Kuroo’s phone rang a few times throughout the day, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his spine followed by a bitter taste of disappointment every time it did. Bokuto called, scheduling their rehearsal for the next day. Akaashi called after that, letting them know the _correct_ time for said rehearsal. His mom called to make sure everything was okay, that he was eating properly, to remind him that she loved him. Kenma’s mother called too, worried because his son hadn’t texted back. Everyone seemed to call him, except for the person he wanted the most.

It was seven when he decided he was being ridiculous. He was splayed on his own bed, phone in hand, staring at the two caps he'd taken - one was _given to him_ \- and at said phone, waiting for it to ring one more time.

He was an idiot. He should've asked him for his number too.

What if Tsukishima didn't call because he was mad at him? What if he hated him? What if…

Kuroo pursed his lips, the feeling of the other's mouth on his not quite forgotten.

His chest went warm and his stomach did a back flip when he thought back to Kei’s face right before he left.

Kei was blushing. Kei didn't look mad. Kei-

His memories were disrupted by his phone falling on his face, his own motor coordination betraying him.

“Kuroo, dinner.”

Kenma's disembodied voice came from the corridor, and Kuroo forced himself to get up.

He must had been pretty pathetic if Kenma was cooking.

All too soon, his lazy Saturday was over, and Tsukishima didn't call.

\---

 

Sunday started with grey skies and a cold breeze, rain falling melancholy against the windows of their apartment. It matched Kuroo's mood. He got up early to check on Kenma and make breakfast, and he was surprised to see that his friend was sleeping. Unusual. Kenma usually stayed up at night, playing until he got exhausted, especially if there was a new game to try out. This time, though, it wasn't interesting enough to keep him awake.

Kuroo closed the door to Kenma's room in the same quiet way he'd opened it. Stretching, he made his way to the small kitchen, getting all the dirty laundry that was scattered around the corridor and living room. Sometimes he was amazed by how messy they could be, the result of working the whole week without washing a single plate or sock. Tossing all gathered laundry at a basket, he turned his attention to his next opponent.

He took a deep breath, facing the enormous pile of dishes.

_This requires a soundtrack._

Two minutes later he had his iPod plugged to a small amplifier, blasting “Eye of the Tiger”. He hummed to the melody while scrubbing a cup, not excited enough to sing properly.

Of course, no one can stay ‘not excited’ when listening to it, so by the time the song reached the second chorus, Kuroo was already singing confidently. The microphone of choice was a water bottle, reminiscent from his volleyball days, and Kenma was his crowd, scrunched up nose letting Kuroo know that all that noise was not being appreciated.

“Kuroo, it's too early to be this noisy.”

"Good morning to you too, kitten! What do you want for breakfast?”

“Waffles. You seem agitated. Did he call?”

His heart skipped a beat with Kenma's question. “No, he didn’t. Not yet”. Kuroo hadn't lost hope, though, and the other sent him a glare that he couldn't read. Was it curiosity?

“Do you think he will?”

“I hope so! Now come here and help me with these dishes while I make your waffles.”

The playlist carried on, ranging from game soundtracks to emocore (“I could swear I had deleted the My Chemical Romance discography from my iPod!”). The white noise of anticipation and anxiety still filled Kuroo's ears, his expectations diminishing at each song that played. Once their meal was done, he sit in front of Kenma, placing their plates at the counter between them. They ate in silence, appreciating the music and the constant dripping of rain against their windows. It was a cozy morning.

An hour later, they were leaving for the rehearsal. Kenma didn't usually go, he didn't like their music style at all, but this time the game he had been playing was bad and he didn't want to stay home by himself. At times like this, Kuroo thought it'd be good to have a pet to keep him company, maybe a cat. They could give the cat a silly name like Mister Paws or something.

That sounded too familiar for his liking.

Kuroo shook his head, stopping himself from reaching inside his pocket to check his phone. He'd only grow more and more disappointed if he looked and there were no new messages or missed calls.

“You're being creepy.”

Kenma's voice startled him, and he jumped on his seat.

“Don't scare me when I'm driving, Kenma! Sheesh, and you said that I was being creepy.”

“You're freaking me out. You haven't been this anxious since you applied for that job.”

“And we all know how that ended up, huh? Look, I'm fine. I'll be fine, just give me a few days and I'll get over this.”

“Are you giving up then?”

Kuroo felt like his friend had just dumped a huge bucket of ice cold water on his head. Was he giving up? No, no yet, it was too early to give up. He only wished he could do something about the situation, but all he could do was wait for Tsukishima to make a move.

Well, Kuroo already made a move by kissing him.

Flushing instantly, he focused on the streets ahead. He caught a glimpse of a smirk on Kenma's lips, but it was gone so fast he thought it was just his imagination.

It wasn't his imagination.

\---

When they arrived at the studio, Bokuto and Akaashi were setting up the drum and amplifiers. The first one greeted them with a bear hug and an ear-to-ear grin, while the other bowed slightly and smiled. Seeing the band come together was one of the three things that did things to Kuroo's heart, the others being small kittens or puppies (those little paws are irresistible) and watching a good Disney movie.

So, when he saw Konoha arriving with his bass case, his grin widened and the warmth in his heart spread throughout his entire body. The band was now complete, and they could start rehearsing.

If not for a small - huge - detail.

The owner’s son ran the studio during weekends. He was a very, very tall half-russian guy with too much enthusiasm and too little motor coordination for his own good. He was also easily impressed, a combo that meant trouble more times than not. It seemed like he was always trying to learn something new, always trying to be useful. He was kind, and Kuroo usually didn’t mind him… Except when he was too determined to help. Those times were the worst.

“Lev, we already set up everything, you can leave it to us now.” Akaashi tried to make him go, but the tall boy didn’t listen to him.

“Don’t worry, Akaashi, I’m just making a few tweaks here so you can rock even harder and louder today!” Lev exclaimed, turning a few knobs here and there. The band members exchanged glances, concern visible in their eyes, but he kept adjusting the amplifiers. He was a bit nervous, if the droplet of sweat trailing down his face meant something. Straightening up, he smiled at them widely, doing a thumbs up. “Done! Can I stay?”

Kuroo smiled at him. The kid was not _that_ bad. “Sure, have a seat.”

Expectation filled the room while Lev sit on the couch beside Kenma, who had his ear buds blasting the soundtrack for the game he was playing.

When they started strumming the chords, it appeared that his ‘tweaks’ really did something, and something good. The sound of the instruments was impeccable, every note and chord played reverberating pleasantly inside the studio. Lev was almost jumping up and down the sofa, buzzing with excitement. It was the first time they'd let him stay while rehearsing. His eyes were as wide as saucers, intensely staring at everything at the same time. He had an aura around him that screamed adoration, all his movements indicating he truthfully wanted to make the best for them. Kuroo found it endearing.

They were all set up now.

Akaashi nodded.

Bokuto raised his drumsticks and counted.

“One, two, three, four!”

They started the intro all at once, their instruments complementing each other and giving shape to “I Sat By The Ocean”. The playful rhythm and signature guitar riffs filled the room and Kuroo's mood seemed to get better with each note. He opened his mouth - he shared the vocals with Akaashi, but the low tones were his to sing - and let the first string of words drip from his throat.

It was their best rendition of the song, he could feel it.

But it all went downhill when the chorus came.

His and Akaashi’s microphones decided to rebel against them, the screeching noise so unbearable they had to turn them off. Clearly, that was something wrong in their settings, tuning or volume, because the high-pitched static threatened to burst their eardrums.

Four heads turned towards Lev, who was already scrambling to his feet, blushing profusely.

“I’m sorry! There must have been a mistake when I was plugging the cables! I'll check it out! I'm sorry!”

He vanished through the door and into the mixing room, leaving the band face-palming.

Aki was the one to break the silence with a sigh followed by a brief laugh.

“Ahh haha… And it was going so well…”

Bokuto was pouting, a mood swing threatening to happen anytime now. Akaashi was tense, but it was possible to see he was pleased with what Lev had done with their instruments by the way he looked at the knobs, as if memorizing them, while he held his guitar close to himself. Konoha sit on an amplifier and was slapping a Red Hot Chili Peppers bassline, if the rhythm was anything to go by.

Kuroo sighed and joined him, singing the lyrics to “Can’t Stop” without a microphone. Soon enough they were all entwined in the melody, Akaashi also taking over the backing vocals and Bokuto hitting the drums playfully with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.

Suddenly a shaky voice came through the speakers.

“Guys I fixed it! You can go back to rehearsing for real.”

They couldn't bring themselves to stop playing so Kuroo and Akaashi just moved to their respective places and kept singing, Aki turned his amplifier back on and Bokuto slammed the drums harder.

Just like they were supposed to do.

The song ended quicker than they  remembered.

“Could someone please explain to me why we had never played Red Hot before?” Kuroo asked, a smile plastered on his face while he looked in awe at the others. “That was _fucking_ amazing.”

“Well I didn't know you guys liked it so I never brought it up.” Konoha was very excited, jaw dropped to the floor. “Akaashi holy shit I never imagined you could reach those high notes so effortlessly!”

Bokuto opened his mouth to say something but Akaashi shot him a death glare that silenced him. Taking a deep breath, he bowed his head to Akinori.

“Thank you Aki. Now let's move on with the actual rehearsal, we have a show coming up.”

When Akaashi turned to retrieve his guitar, Kuroo could see his neck was as red as a tomato, as well as his ear tips. Unusual. It had to mean something. But, before he could ask and probably embarrass Akaashi further, Bokuto did a drumroll, restarting the rehearsal. Akaashi was right. They had to work hard, focus on their next show, get their heads in the songs they were going to play and…

His phone started buzzing.

He picked it up with both hands, the music seemed to go silent into his ears, his attention turned completely to the small device. His guitar dangled from his torso, forgotten.

It was an unknown number.

The others stopped playing to stare at Kuroo, who was staring at his phone. Even Kenma, who had been slumped on the couch and staring at his game until now, sit up to stare at him. Even Lev, who had been staring at them through the studio’s glass, entered the room to stare at him.

Kuroo couldn't bring himself to answer it in front of the others. He'd get even more embarrassed than he already was, and that was quite a lot. So he ran towards the door and towards the bathroom, seeking some privacy and a sink to cool his head.

He answered with shaky hands and sweaty palms, understanding painfully well what Kenma said about him being a twelve year old with a crush.

“Hello?”

He heard the call’s static and an exhale before he heard a familiar voice.

“Kuroo?”

“Tsukishima, is that you?”

He heard a sigh from the other side of the call, but that was just his wishful thinking, right?

“Yeah. Hi.”

“ _I can't believe you really called.”_

“Huh? Why'd you give me your number if you didn't expect me to call?”

_Shit! I said that aloud._

Kuroo cackled nervously. “Ahaha… you're right! You're so perceptive, Kei! So…”

Static made the silence even heavier. He could hear Tsukishima shifting, uncomfortable.

“Soooooo… what are you up to right now?” He spit out in a playful tone to try and lighten the atmosphere, but received a huff as a response from Kei.

“Right now? Well I decided to call this idiot because he gave his number in a rush and said he wanted to go out with me some other time. So I called, but he still hasn't asked me out. I wonder why…?”

It felt like a heart attack, like his heart was going to claim “Independence!” and jump from his mouth, like the floor underneath him had vanished and he was falling too fast. He couldn't stop the giggles that overflowed from his chest.

"You’re so cute.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Kei, nothing… So… Um…” saying those words were a lot harder than Kuroo had imagined. He inhaled sharply and gathered all his confidence. “Do you wanna have dinner with me tomorrow?”

A pause.

“That’d be good, yeah. Where do we meet?”

They discussed the place and time where they’d meet the next day, and Kuroo couldn’t stop smiling. At some point, he wasn’t even listening to what Tsukishima was saying anymore, just basking in the sound of the other’s voice.

A knock on the door startled him and he almost dropped his phone.

“Kuroo, are you OK?” the question was said in Bokuto’s loud, booming voice.

“Yes! Kinda!” Kuroo screamed back, his voice echoing in the bathroom.

“Shit, are you busy?” Tsukishima was silent for a second before asking in a hushed tone.

It was so cute Kuroo thought he’d die.

“No! Actually, yes, a bit. I’m at my band’s rehearsal.”

“Oh… Well I’ve kept you for too long, go back to your rehearsal.”

“It’s never too long when I’m talking with you, Kei.”

“KUROO PLEASE COME BACK WE STILL HAVE A THOUSAND SONGS TO PLAY!”

Bokuto’s timing killed the smoothness with such precision that Kuroo wondered if it was premeditated.

“That's not quite true, huh?” Tsukishima laughed sincerely. “It's okay, go.”

“Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Goodbye Kuroo.”

“Bye!”

Bokuto was waiting for him outside the bathroom's door.

“Have you ever heard of something called ‘privacy’?!” Kuroo nudged him, finding it impossible to stop smiling, which made his words lose all their bite.

“Did you just get a date?”

“Yup.”

“With that DJ?”

“Yu- hey, how do you know about him?”

“I'm your bro! You told me about him! To be honest I think you told everyone already.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Kuroo, you're blushing.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes you are!”

“LIES!”

“I AM LITERALLY STARING AT YOUR FLUSHED FACE, YOU CANNOT LIE TO ME.” Bokuto grabbed Kuroo's face between his hands and grinned, squeezing his cheeks. “Bro, you must really like this guy!”

Kuroo opened his mouth to say that no, he wasn't _that_ deep, but his drummer let go of him, patting his cheeks with more force than necessary.

“Let's get back to the rehearsal before Aki and Akaashi come to scold us.”

He nodded, his skin tingling where Bokuto's hands had been. _Ouch_ . But that wasn't enough to make him stop giggling internally. _Tsukishima Kei had called. He wanted to go out with him. He didn't hate him._

Unsurprisingly, the rehearsal was a complete disaster after that. Kuroo's head was somewhere else, and Kenma ended up driving them back to their house.

Needless to say, Kuroo didn't sleep at all that night.

\---

Needless to say, Tsukishima didn't sleep at all that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Intermission #2! :D


	5. Intermission #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that Kenma was the one who introduced Tsukki's songs to Kuroo because he follows the forum where Tsukki uploads his music? Well.
> 
> I'm sorry for the lack of updates! I'm working at chapter 4 at a slow pace since I've injured my wrist last week, but the story's not forgotten (in fact it never leaves my mind how's that even possible) (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ 
> 
> Please, enjoy this short intermission <3

_You have 1 new message._

> PM

> Inbox

> 1 new message from [GrumpyCat]

 

[GrumpyCat] - 1 day ago  
hey

 

[Firefly Project] - 1 day ago  
hey

 

[GrumpyCat] - 1 day ago  
you’re tsukishima kei, right?

 

[Firefly Project] - 1 day ago  
yeah, why do you ask?

 

[GrumpyCat]  - 1 day ago  
do you hate kuroo tetsurou?

 

[Firefly Project] - 1 day ago  
uh… no… why?

 

[GrumpyCat] - 1 day ago  
great! could you pls call him already? he’s driving me mad.

 

[Firefly Project] - 1 day ago  
what the fuck.

 

[GrumpyCat] - 23h ago  
pls pls pls pls pls just call

 

[Firefly Project] - 20h ago  
who are you why do you know all this

 

[GrumpyCat] - 20h ago  
call him.

 

[Firefly Project] - 16h ago  
… you’re kenma?

 

[GrumpyCat] - 16h ago  
yup. call him.

 

[Firefly Project] - 4h ago  
did he tell you about me?

 

[GrumpyCat] - 4h ago  
hah. HE NEVER SHUTS UP SINCE HE SAW YOU LIVE THE FIRST TIME srsly I think I know _you_ better than I know most of my friends bc he literally. never. shuts. up.

 

[Firefly Project] - 4h ago  
………

 

[GrumpyCat] - 4h ago  
I’m serious, call him.

 

[Firefly Project] - 4h ago  
………

 

[GrumpyCat] - 3h ago  
I never asked you anything. call him.

 

[Firefly Project] - 3h ago  
I’ll think about it

 

[GrumpyCat] - 3h ago  
please do. and call him.

 

[Firefly Project] - 3h ago  
you’re persistant.

 

[GrumpyCat] - 2h ago  
he’s a PAIN IN THE ASS and also my best friend, and he really seems to be into you so do ourselves a favor

 

[Firefly Project] - 10min ago  
and call him?

 

[GrumpyCat] - 1min ago  
and call him.

 

> Dial

> Kuroo Tetsurou

_Calling…._


	6. Five Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mondays were hard, but this one in particular was trying to set a new world record for lamest day ever. A light rain fell against the windows, gray clouds hovering over the tall buildings and the sound of car horns filled the air. Definitely a “Monday mood”.
> 
> Tsukishima woke up and wished he was still asleep. He disliked mornings. Groaning loudly, he reached for his glasses and put them on, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted to focus on the time.
> 
> 9:04am.
> 
> Shit.
> 
> He was late. He was very late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... hey guys :D
> 
> This fic has two playlists: one [inspired by the DJ](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/6Nwks1tjlYtm5MdprYCMaI), and one [inspired by the rockstar](https://open.spotify.com/user/priganiko/playlist/0R31i3EDv30aOk47Fg8XQ6).
> 
> Chapter named after [Five Hours - Deorro](https://open.spotify.com/track/6r7FXNO57mlZCBY6PXcZZT?si=U6xyhRTKRJGMrSla_9xRRQ).
> 
> This chapter is not beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> Enjoy :D

Mondays were hard, but this one in particular was trying to set a new world record for lamest day ever. A light rain fell against the windows, gray clouds hovering over the tall buildings and the sound of car horns filled the air. Definitely a “Monday mood”.

Tsukishima woke up and wished he was still asleep. He disliked mornings. Groaning loudly, he reached for his glasses and put them on, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted to focus on the time.

9:04am.

_Shit._

He was late. He was _very_ late.

After jumping off the bed and finding out how cold the world was without his blanket draped over his body, Tsukishima was certain that some deity decided to act against him because the black shirt he’d picked to wear to his job - and subsequent date - was covered in gray fur. It’d take him half an hour to get rid of all that fuzz, and he didn’t have that time right now, so he grabbed the first long sleeved shirt he saw and put it on: a purple one that matched his new-but-old-looking jeans.

He rushed to the living room, buckling his belt and when he looked up from it he saw Lord Whiskers lacerating his sofa, mewling softly, visibly pleased with himself.

He hissed at the sight but decided against scoulding the cat: he hadn’t got the time for it right now, so Tsukishima just went straight to the kitchen to fix himself some coffee before darting to the office.

The coffee machine didn’t heat the water enough, resulting in something so gross and offensive it shouldn’t be called ‘coffee’. At least the toast, made from the home made bread his neighbors gave him, was good.

A distant, shimmering, almost-fading ray of hope lit up, hope that maybe that day wasn’t going to be a complete disaster.

Going back to his room, he found Lord Whiskers decided to throw everything that was on his desk to the floor, including but not limited to his keys, his wallet, and his headphones. His shiny, brand new, expensive headphones. He took a deep breath, refraining from taking one of his cat’s nine lives. Fortunately, everything seemed to work properly and he left the house without further incidents.

The trip to work was pretty uneventful, which made Tsukishima suspicious of the likely impending doom that never came.

Except that, _of course_ , he forgot the keys to the office, so he was locked outside until Yamaguchi showed up an hour later.

“Tsukki! What are you doing out here?”

The expression on Yamaguchi’s face after the glare Kei sent his way almost made him pity the freckled young man, but it wasn’t enough to placate his anger and melt his iron resolve to nominate that day as one of the worst. Without saying anything, he got up and entered the office as soon as the door was opened. They’d been friends long enough, so Yamaguchi didn’t take anything personally.

That didn’t mean he’d go easy on Tsukishima, though.

It was almost lunch time, and Kei couldn’t focus on anything for more than five minutes. He clicked through layers and layers of his Photoshop file, not really getting the job done but not really slacking. He needed something to focus on, and his rage wasn't helping at all.

“Hey, Tsukki. How's that flyer coming?”

He almost dropped his tablet's pen. Yamaguchi was casually sitting at the corner of his table. Only then Tsukishima noticed how his friend-and-also-boss was dressed. Instead of the usual t-shirt and jeans, he wore black jeans and a striped shirt. He was also wearing his best pair of shoes and had part of his hair tied up into a half ponytail, his messenger bag slung across his chest. _He must've been at a business meeting_ , Tsukishima guessed. Instead of replying with words, he huffed, which made Yamaguchi smile even wider.

“I see, I see. You must be nervous.”

Sometimes, intimacy was a bitch.

“What do you want, Yamaguchi?”

“Oh, pissy aren’t we? Nah, I’m just pulling your leg, I know you must be stressed because of your dat-”

The door swung open and Saeko stormed in, interrupting their conversation.

“Hello gorgeous! How are we doing today? Are we heading off to grab some food?”

“You’re late.”

“Such a small, tiny detail, my dear Tsukki! Why the sour face?”

Tsukishima counted to ten mentally, after all, he didn’t want to murder her. Well, technically, he _did_ want to murder her, but he would not do so. At least not yet.

“Let's just go already, please.” Kei stood up and headed towards the door, but Yamaguchi sprinted, positioning himself between him and the exit. Saeko looked intrigued.

“Wait, wait! I have something to tell you both.”

That got their attention.

“Today I've closed a deal with Placeholder Records. We'll be handling their scouting and merchandising.” Yamaguchi raised his hand. “Tsukki, I know you’ve been busy with your music so I'll be hiring another designer to give you some breathing room. In fact, the three of us will be hiring a new designer.”

Saeko’s eyes widened and Tsukishima frowned.

“Will we interview them too?”

“Yes, Saeko. Since it's just the three of us, I figured it'd be better this way. We must find someone who gets along with all of us.” He winked at Tsukishima, who sighed in response. So that's what it was about.

He sighed, nodded and went for the door handle. Yamaguchi took a step to the side and let them out, an overexcited Saeko drowning Tsukki with questions that ranged from who they'd end up choosing for the job (“We have no way to know that yet!”) to where they’d grab lunch (“It's too late to go to our usual restaurant, it will be excessively crowded now…”).

They ended up going to the small udon shop just across the street.

\---

After lunch, Tsukishima felt more relaxed, determined to make this day a bit less miserable. Saeko was joking around too, which helped him forget his imminent date. He even got some flyers done, which was something.

He put on his headphones, trying to drown the constant ticking of the clock. And his thoughts. Especially his thoughts.

_Breathe, Kei. You’ll be fine, it’s just a date._

The clocked moved slowly and Tsukishima wasn’t quite sure he wanted it to speed up. With each passing second he became more and more nervous, but those seconds seemed like forever. It was torture.

There was a flash, followed by a sonorous thunder. Seconds later, the loud thumping of the raindrops against the windows pierced the barrier his headphones build and poured down all that was left of his hope that the day could get better.

It couldn’t, and it would keep on progressively getting worse.

He thought of calling Kuroo and postponing their meeting to the next day, but calling him to set up the date was so hard and he had a feeling that calling him to cancel it would be even worse. Gripping onto his chair tight, he watched as the clock ticked away the seconds.

“Tsukki, are you sure you’re ok?”

Yamaguchi materialized beside him (again), scaring the living shit out of him (again). Kei shot him a death glare, and his friend took a step back.

“Woah, I didn’t intend to scare you! I’m here to tell you your cab has arrived.”

Tsukishima looked at him, confused. His adrenaline was still going back to its normal levels, blood pounding inside his ears. “I didn’t ask for any cab.”

“I know. I did. Go, or you’ll be stuck in traffic.” The freckles on Tadashi’s face danced when he smiled. Kei looked at him, incredulous. He didn’t deserve his best friend.

“Yamaguchi-”

“The cab won’t wait you much longer, you know.”

Tsukishima sighed, defeated, and got up. He picked up his things and headed towards the door, turning around just as he reached it to wave goodbye to Saeko and Yamaguchi, who was still smiling at him.

Kei smiled back, timidly.

“Thank you.”

And left.

\---  
Rain was still pouring down by the time he left the cab and headed to the subway. He took careful steps towards the platform, feeling like he would slip and fall anytime. It was hell. But more wet.

He put his headphones on, drowning the noise from the station with an upbeat, progressive tune.

The subway trip was short and uneventful, which only contributed to the anxiety welling up on Tsukishima’s chest and stomach. He kept his hand inside his jacket’s pockets to make sure no one could see they were kind of shaking. His heart felt like it was going to beat it’s way out of his chest, and his knees were behaving a lot like jelly.

It was just like the first time he performed on a stage all by himself to a crowd of a hundred people or so - but this time, he’d only be facing one person, and somehow this was a lot scarier.

His chest was constricted, getting a little tighter with every step he took towards the place he’d meet with Kuroo.

Leaving the subway station behind him, he sheltered from the rain underneath some street shop’s canopies, walking in a rhythmic, almost mechanical way, trying to keep his mind blank.

_Don’t panic._

He’d only walked a few meters when his phone buzzed. Carefully, he fished it out of his pocket, hoping it wasn’t a call or something urgent that could ruin his plans for the night. Thankfully, it was just a text, which should have eased his suffering, but only made it grow, since it was “just a text” from Kuroo. Kei stopped at his tracks and stared at the lit up screen for a few seconds, mustering the courage to read it and preparing for the worst.

_He won't come._

_Something went wrong and he isn’t able to come._

_Or maybe he realised I am a boring human being and that he deserves better._

Tsukishima took a deep breath and slid his finger across the screen, feeling an unusual surge of adrenaline coursing through his body. He read the message.

From: Kuroo

_I'm here! Don't rush tho, I'm early._

This was a thousand times worse than getting ditched. The text had the opposite effect and, instead of calming him down, only made him more nervous.

The place they'd chosen to meet, a small but cozy lamen restaurant, was right between Kei's work and Kuroo's house (or so he said). It was also conveniently placed near a subway station, and soon enough Tsukishima found himself near it. He scanned the street discreetly, searching for the other.

There he was, leaning against the wall, completely focused on something at his hands that Kei couldn't see. He wore his usual black jeans with a burgundy shirt and Converse shoes, his unruly hair all over the place. It looked like the standard Kuroo, except for the deep frown at his forehead.

It was almost adorable.

Kei kept walking towards him slowly, drinking him in. When he got closer, he saw what was concerning the other and couldn’t help but smile. The thing in his hands that had been consuming all Kuroo’s attention was a pair of earbuds, all tangled. He was fiddling with them, tucking and pulling, trying to undo the mess without taking them off. He was so absorbed in the task that he didn’t see Tsukishima approaching him.

It took a few moments for Kuroo to realise that he was being watched, but when he did, the smile that made way to his lips was almost too much for Kei to handle. It made him feel warm despite the cold wind, and he was sure something inside him just melted.

Kei smiled back, a shy, involuntary and earnest smile snucking in before being replaced by the usual smirk while Kuroo took his earphones off.

“Is it really that hard to untangle this, Kuroo?”

As if it was possible, Kuroo’s grin turned even bigger. “Would you please help me, kind sir?”

Kei took the phones from him, their hands touching by the fragment of a second and making the warmness inside him spread a little further. His agile hands quickly worked their way into the mess, untangling the cords under the surprised gaze of the other man.

“This was the most impressive thing I’ve seen from you, and I saw you performing onstage for a crowd of a thousand people.”

Kuroo looked legitimately amazed by Tsukishima’s small feat, which made the DJ get a bit flustered.

“It was nothing. We should get going or we’ll to have to wait in the queue for decades”, said Tsukki, handing the earphones back to their rightful owner and avoiding any kind of eye contact.

Kuroo grabbed the earphones and took a hold of Kei’s hand gently, but sudden enough to make him stop on his tracks immediately. Shocked by the touch, he turned to face a smiling Kuroo.

“Thank you!” he said, or at least that’s what Tsukishima’s brain processed after a few moments staring at him. He let out a puff, and murmured a “That was nothing, really” before returning to mission _no eye contact and no queue_.

His adrenaline was reaching new highs, though. The lingering warmth of the other’s hand on his was going to take a while to fade away, apparently. He was one hundred percent sure his cheeks were redder than a tomato.

Despite Tsukishima’s efforts, there was a small queue for the restaurant. He asked for a table for two and got a weird glance and a “there are four tables before you” from the waiter, whose face was just beaming with exhaustion.

Kei went back to Kuroo, who was patiently waiting at the door.

“So, do you have good news?”

He was so visibly happy Kei was starting to doubt it was true.

“Not exactly, the waiter said there are four tables ahead of us.”

Kuroo looked confused.

“And how long will it take?”

“I don't know.”

“Didn't you ask?”

Kei felt like an idiot. The silence must have given him away, because before he could say anything Kuroo was already patting him on the shoulder and saying “I’ve got this” while passing him and going inside the small restaurant.

A few moments passed and Tsukishima was starting to wonder what could've happened when the other man emerged from the door, grin still in place.

“He said that it'll only take a few minutes, since there's a lot of people finishing their meals.”

Kei huffed, and Kuroo looked at him like a confused kitten.

“What's wrong?”

He couldn't answer. He wanted to ramble about all things wrong in the universe and how unfair it was that they had to wait for people to leave to be able to enjoy some food, how his coffee machine was broken and basically everything that happened in that terrible day.

Instead, Tsukishima huffed again and just said “It’s nothing.”

Kuroo seemed to understand, shrugging the subject off and leaning against the wall again, casually playing with his earbuds again.

“That’s how you get them tangled so bad”, said Tsukishima, leaning against the wall beside Kuroo. “You have to roll them loosely so the cord won’t break, too.”

“I’m afraid I never did it right then, mine always stop working in less than a year.”

Kei giggled. “Well I can see why. Here, let me show you how to do this properly.”

He took the earbuds from Kuroo’s hands and rolled them slowly, making sure the cord wasn’t tensioned. “There you have it.”

Kuroo smiled and unrolled the cord once again, trying to mimic Tsukishima’s movements. “Like this?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty simple isn’t it? Next time you’re buying a pair of earbuds, try looking for one with a sturdier cord, I can link you a few models if you want.”

“That’d be great, actually. Thanks, Kei!”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m nominating you my earbuds specialist.”

“I’m flattered, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. I studied years and years of music so that one day a guy with an eternal bedhead would nominate me a earbud specialist. It’s like a dream come true.”

The deadpan tone used by Tsukishima seemed to be too much for Kuroo to handle, and his laugh was so sincere that Kei couldn’t help but join him.

They bantered jokingly for the next minutes and, some time later, the exhausted waiter was at the door, letting them now there was a table available for them and the world didn’t feel like such a terrible place anymore.

\---

The restaurant was at full capacity, and the table designed for them was at the corner. The path to it was full of couples, families with children and men in suits, and it was a bit overwhelming for Kei, since he and Kuroo were attracting some glances - mostly because of their height, he supposed (he hoped).

After they sat, though, things seemed to be back to normal.

“So, what do you recommend here, Kei?”

“Uhm, I’m getting a kare udon, but their misso lamen is exceptionally tasty as well.”

“Oh I love misso, I’m getting one of these, then.”

“The extra egg is really worthy, if you like eggs.”

“I sure do. In fact, I’m not very picky about food.”

The waiter arrived at the table and stood there, silently staring at them and waiting for their orders.

“He’d like a kare udon and I’ll have a misso lamen with an extra egg, please” Kuroo ordered with a smile. The waiter exhaled deeply and wrote the orders down, looking extremely exhausted and fed up with life.

“Drinks?” he asked, bluntly. Kei looked at Kuroo, who looked back at him and crooked his head to the side like a puppy.

“Uhh, I think sake?” Kei nodded, discreetly. Kuroo smiled and asked “Do you have sake?”

The waiter exhaled deeply once again. “Yes we have sake.”

Kuroo smiled at him. “We’re having sake then.”

“Yes you are, aren’t you?” The waiter turned around and left, walking tiredly.

“Boy, does he need a day off”, Kuroo said, still following the tired waiter with his eyes.

“Yeah, the service isn’t like this usually, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s OK. The guy’s just too tired, I feel him.”

“You don’t seem that tired, Kuroo”, Kei eyed him, resting his head on his hand.

“But I am! I had a rough day today”, complained Kuroo, pouting. Tsukishima hated himself for finding that kind of cute.

“Did you?”

Tsukishima felt a bit bad about not asking him this when they met, but then again, he wasn’t so keen about complaining about his own day, so it was completely understandable if Kuroo chose to change the subject.

He did not.

“Oh boy, it was rough. I woke up late for work and had to rush getting dressed, but Kenma had put my shirt in the laundry basket and it took me ages to find it - I really wanted to wear this one tonight. Then, when I got to the kitchen I found out my coffee machine is broken, out of fucking nowhere. The day was bad and I was so nervous because I was seeing you tonight, I missed the bus stop and had to walk two blocks to get to work. When I arrived, I found out that the meeting I was supposed to attend was cancelled, so I basically got the earlier than I had to be there and -”

Tsukishima couldn’t help but chuckle about the description of Kuroo’s shitty day, which left the other confused and curious at the other side of the table.

“Hey don’t you ask me about my day and then just laugh at the expense of my disgrace, that’s rude.”

Kuroo’s words had no bite in them, and he couldn’t hide his curiosity. Tsukishima took a few moments to recompose himself, hiding his face with both hands and giggling before facing Kuroo again.

“It seems like a few days are just crap for everybody, Kuroo. Mine was pretty much like yours, even the coffee machine part!”

Kuroo looked even more confused.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that you also had a shitty day that involved a broken coffee machine?’

“Yes, but not only that. I was too early for work as well.”

Kuroo was giggling, his face showing utter disbelief.

“I can’t believe this.”

“It was _very_ similar.”

“Even the part when I said I was nervous because I was coming to see you tonight?”

Tsukishima blushed. _Yes, of course that part too - specifically that part if I were to be completely honest._

“Why would I be nervous about meeting you?”, he said, the words coming out of his mouth just a little bit shaky, making him too aware of his own voice in that crowded, buzzing place.

Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, or managed to hide it very well behind that almost-permanent smirk of his.

“Well, I can think about a few reasons…”

Tsukishima crossed his arms over the table and leaned forward a few inches, analysing the other. He wanted to play that game too.

“Would you mind sharing them with me then?”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow and his smirk seemed to widen a bit while he mirrored Kei’s actions, fixating his piercing gaze right into Tsukishima’s face - although it felt like he was staring directly into his soul.

Kei felt a bit overwhelmed by the challenge, but he wasn’t going to back away. He could feel his cheeks burning and something else was starting to build up, just like a bassline drop: even if you know that it’s coming, you can’t help but feel your body tense in anticipation.

“Well, for starters, you should be nervous because I-”

Suddenly, two sake cups were slammed against the table. The waiter had already left before they could complain or shoot him death glances.

They exchanged looks, mildly embarrassed. Kuroo scratched his head and Tsukishima picked up one of the cups before they crossed eyes again.

“Cheers, I guess.” Kei raised his cup, and he could almost feel Kuroo’s body relaxing while he picked up the other cup to meet his.

“You know, Kei”, said Kuroo, after taking a sip from his sake, “I think this is going to be a very nice evening.”  
Kei didn’t respond to that out loud, but he agreed.

“So... tell me more about your band. I interrupted your rehearsal yesterday, I hope they’re not mad or something”, Tsukishima blurted it out as an apology, and Kuroo promptly smiled at him.

Something inside him melted a bit.

“They’re not! I swear!”

“I’d understand if they were, though.”

“No, but they’re not mad or anything like that. They’re just a bunch of guys, there’s this hyperactive loud-as-fuck guy, our drummer, his name is Bokuto-”

\---

Just like that, it was over.

Tsukishima closed the door to his apartment behind him, still feeling a bit dizzy from all the sake (“Lucky we’re not driving tonight eh, Kei?!” and all the Kuroo he’d just taken. It was an intense evening, and it just went by so fast that he almost couldn’t believe that the hours he spent with Kuroo had the same amount of minutes that the hours he spent at work.

Lord Whiskers came to rub himself against Kei’s legs, and he picked the cat up and nuzzled him, earning a loud purr and a significantly amount of fur on his face. It was worth it, he decided, while putting the cat back down and walking towards his bedroom.

He fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not going to overextend but...
> 
> Last years have been a bit frantic for me but this AU has never left my mind for long. I've been stuck, working on this chapter for almost two years now. Yeah I know. But here it is! I hope I'll be able to pick up rhythm again and the words get out easier next time. ♥


	7. Intermission #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi felt something was odd the moment he stepped inside the office.

Yamaguchi felt something was odd the moment he stepped inside the office.

The atmosphere was somewhat different and yet he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. Maybe the flowers?

“Saeko, come here please.”

“What is it, boss?”

He scrunched up his nose - he really hated being called _“boss”_ like that, but he also knew that the girl found pleasure in the face he was making so she wouldn’t stop calling him that anyway. 

“What is wrong with this place today?”

Saeko looked around, scanning the room. “Maybe the flowers?” she said, shrugging.

“Exactly what I thought at first but no, I don’t think this is it. There’s something else.”

They walked together around the small coffee table, sat on the sofas, checked the magazines.

Nothing.

The flowers, beautifully arranged, stood in the center, shining yellow and bright. Yamaguchi really liked dandelions, especially because they were so simple, so unpretentious.

_But it wasn’t about the flowers._

The tiny kitchen was the same it had always been. The bathroom, the enormous window, the stray black cat that usually slept on their roof. Everything was extremely normal.

Except…

“Hey, boss? I think I’ve found the source of it.”

Saeko was poking him with her right index finger and pointing her left index finger to Tsukishima, who was wearing headphones and focusing on a new promotional piece for the seasoning company they’d just signed with. He seemed to be working as usual.

But something about him was… _odd._

He was wearing the same shirt he used to, and sat with his legs crossed like he used to. The way he held his tablet’s pen was the same and his hair looked the same, carefully messed.

They approached him and noticed why it felt so odd.

“Is Tsukishima…?” Saeko asked Yamaguchi, who smiled. 

_Humming._

Tsukishima was humming quietly, almost inaudibly. Yamaguchi recognised it as a tune Kei was stuck on developing over the last months. It seemed like the song was coming back to him, that the DJ was loosening up and getting his creative process flowing once again.

He hadn’t been like this in months. Creative block, Tsukishima said to his friend and manager. The pressure of being a resident at Club Alpaca and putting together an EP, besides helping out with the designs for Yamaguchi’s small company was really taking its toll on him, and he was just so tired. As his manager, Yamaguchi felt agitated, he needed to keep Kei motivated and choose the best opportunities for him. As his friend, Tadashi was devastated. He couldn’t bear not being able to help his friend, so he tried to cheer him up during work and kept checking on him to make sure he was okay.

It was nice to see him like that.

It was more than nice, it was _splendid._

Whatever magic that date had done, he hoped it kept working.


End file.
